Revisiting '47
by Alex Bauer
Summary: Special Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully visit Roswell, New Mexico, home of the famous UFO crash of 1947. Upon their visit, they discover something truly out of this world.
1. Chapter 1

Special Agent Fox Mulder pulled up across the street from his favorite place on Earth. He had came to this location many times before, but his partner, Special Agent Dana Scully, had never been. He had wanted to show her this place many times before, but never had the chance. Now, with some time off from his job at the FBI and with his new open-minded partner, everything was falling into place.

"Why are we here?" Scully asked as she undid her seatbelt and got out of the car.

Mulder, who was already crossing the street, shouted back,

"You've been with me on some of the wildest UFO/flying saucer cases I've ever had, but you haven't been to place where this all started, arguably."

She gave a sarcastic smile, and as she crossed the street, slowly, she looked up. The model UFO was staring her down on top of the building Mulder was standing in front of. He was furiously reading a poster as she caught up with him. The words NATIONAL UFO MUSUEM illuminated in neon red above them. The building was a renovated 1920s style movie theater. Now, as the sign above says, it has been converted into the well-known National UFO Museum.

"Good, Scully, we're not late." Mulder said reassuringly.

"Late? How can we be late? It's 7:30 am!" Scully said a bit annoyed.

"Early bird gets the worm." Mulder smiled.

Just then, from where they had just parked their car, they heard a scream. Mulder and Scully both turned around quickly to see what the commotion was all about. The both relaxed as they saw two teens, wearing green alien hats and shirts, goofing off. Scully looked puzzled. Mulder laughed.

"Welcome to Roswell, New Mexico." He said, as he opened the door.

They both hurried inside.

They had entered into a reception area. A big desk with various papers and flyers were scattered on the desk. Posters, maps, and pictures, depicting various alien TV shows and famous people who have visited this museum, covered the walls. Several chairs lay on the side, and a vending machine was humming in the background. Mulder approached the desk. He saw a woman, who looked to be in her upper sixties, typing on the computer—hidden from this massive desk.

"Uh, yes, we'd like to go in…" Mulder said nicely.

The lady looked up, smiled, and quietly said,

"Go right on in! It's free admission. We do, though, love donations."

Mulder acknowledge by placing a _small_ donation into the jar labeled DONATIONS.

The lady smiled.

"OK. You enter to your right, " she said pointing to door well hidden by posters, "and the gift shop is at the end. Oh, and a movie starts in about 20 minutes; you guys should be able to make it!"

She was very helpful, and Mulder thanked her. They soon walked away from the desk, and entered through the door. Before it closed behind them, Scully blurted out,

"I knew it. I knew there was a catch."

Mulder, confused, asked, "Catch? I don't know what you mean…"

"The movie. You wanted me to see this movie. That's why we came this early!"

Mulder scratched his head, and then he smiled.

"It's time we properly educate you on the mystery revolving around the Roswell UFO Incident."

"We?" Scully asked.

"Well, the Gunman help pay for expenses. But, c'mon, keep an open mind!"

Scully rolled her eyes, as they began their tour. The museum was set up in a way that everyone could easily follow along. It was laid out in a way where everything set up on the right side had to deal with the Roswell incident. There were photos, writings, posters, videos, and replicas all on display with an interesting history plaque written to side of each item, telling each item's own history. Everything on the left wall of the museum was the same exact set up, except it dealt with other UFO stories and events. A simple circle of the room took about 45 minutes to read everything. In the middle, between both displays, was a room only accessible by a door on either side. It was the screening room, where movies and documentaries can easily be shown to the public.

Mulder was explaining every last detail concerning about the Roswell incident, and Scully was impressed.

_He knew his stuff_, she thought.

Mulder was about done explaining everything, when an announcement blared through the museum.

"Last call for 'Unexplained Mysteries: Roswell'. Last call for anyone interested. Please make your way to the show room. Thank you."

The speakers went still.

"Looks like it's time." Mulder said.

Scully followed Mulder as he walked to the entrance of the screening room. He held the door open.

"Enjoy." He said.

"You're not coming?" she asked.

"I've seen this! This is all for you." He replied kindly.

"Oh no, Mulder. Really…"

"C'mon! It's my treat!"

"Mulder, it's free."

"It's also starting," he said as he smiled and guided Scully's way into the theater.

He closed the door. He was alone. The humming of the theme in the theater was the only sound. A plastic alien stared back at him. He sighed, hoping Scully would take this seriously. He cleared his throat, and leaned up against the wall adjacent to the door. An older man appeared in front of Mulder, reading the information on the opposite wall. Suddenly, he turned around. He looked around him and asked,

"Are you Fox Mulder…with the FBI?"

The man was balding, but he still had white hair covering most of his head. He was tall, almost taller then Mulder. He had an army green jacket on, which was covered in colorful patches. His tan cargo pants had been worn out, and his brown boots had mud all over them. His glasses widened his blues eyes, and he had a sense of urgency all over his face. He lent out his hand to be shaken. Mulder, weary, shook it.

"Who are you?" Mulder asked.

"Forgive me…I'm David Richardson."

"OK, Mr. Richardson, how do you know me?"

"I was told to contact you."

"Who told you that, and what about?" Mulder inquired.

"Well, if you'd stop asking questions, I can get to that." Richardson snapped.

Mulder stood quiet.

"I was told by a source that you were quite an expert on UFO lore, and I overheard you explaining this incident to your lovely…partner. I now know why you're such an authority. Uh, I have something you probably like to see."

Mulder was intrigued.

"And, what is this thing you'd like me to see…"

"Back in 1947, when the UFO crashed, I worked here—at the military base. I was told to go out to Brazel's ranch, and clean up the debris from this UFO crash. So, I did. We were to put this material in bags, and load them on to trucks located at the site. I did. But, I kept 3 pieces, because I knew people weren't going to believe me when I said I'd seen a _real_ flying saucer."

Mulder was stunned. If what this guy was saying was true, this could shed some light on a mystery plaguing society for the past 50 years.

"Except," Richardson continued, "we were told to keep quiet. We couldn't talk about it. So, I didn't show anyone—or tell anyone—what I had. Now, with me in my old age, I want to give it to the world. And piss off some folks, if I can."

The old man smiled. Mulder asked,

"Where is this material?"

Richardson's tone was hushed.

"At my house. But we have to be quiet about it. No followers."

Mulder agreed. Richardson began to leave, when motioned Mulder to follow with a slight head nod. Mulder followed him to his car, which was parked right in front of his across the street. Mulder was excited. What so many had hoped to see, he was going to witness in just a few minutes-if this guy was not BSing him. They soon drove off.

As soon as they left, Scully's movie was over. She was a bit more annoyed she had to sit through that, but now Mulder was missing. And that was about annoying as it gets. She called his name, but there was no reply. Others were staring at her.

_Where the hell is he? _

She left the museum portion, and went back to the front desk. The lady was still there, typing away on her computer.

"Uh, Hi," Scully started, "have you seen my partner anywhere? The tall one. Big nose."

The lady looked up. Thought a second, and replied,

"Oh yes! I did! He left with one of our contributors to the museum. You want his address? Phone number?"

"Yes, that would be wonderful! Thank you!" Scully replied.

The women handed her the information, and Scully left the building.

The lady watched Scully as she reached for her cell phone. Scully turned the corner, and was out of sight. The lady picked up the phone next to her, and dialed a number.

"Richardson told. That's another one."

She hung up, and continued her e-mail.


	2. Chapter 2

Evan Corey had been working nonstop all morning. Calls were being made to him about the littlest of issues, but he had to still take them seriously. Corey was 21. His clean cut features helped him fit in with his coworkers, who were mostly army men or top government officials. He worked for the government out in the desert of Nevada, though he had relocated for the time being to Holloman Air Force Base in New Mexico. His job was taking calls/messages for his superior—John Mills. Mills was part of the notorious "men in black", and what they did was a total mystery to Corey. All he knew was that he shouldn't ask questions, and he didn't.

It was 8:30 am, when the phone rang. Corey picked it up before the second ring.

"Hello." Corey said.

The message was short. The women hung up before he could answer. He wrote the message on a piece of paper, tore it, and proceeded to Mills' office. The narrow hallway was poorly lit, and was always cold.

_You'd think they fix that_, Corey thought.

He got to the end, and knocked on the wooden door. A loud knock rang through the hallway.

"Come in!" a voice called.

Corey entered. Mills was sitting at his desk, glasses on, reading through documents. Mills was 40, bald, and extremely fit. He hated wearing glasses, but he couldn't read without them. His office was spacious. A desk in the middle, with 3 chairs spread out in front of it. On one side, a huge bookcase filled with books on subjects ranging from outer space to the Florida Marlins—Mills' favorite baseball team. On the other side, pictures and awards littered the wall. Mills loved his family. Corey smiled.

"Good Morning, Corey." Mills embraced.

"Sir. Good Morning." Corey smiled as he walked over to his desk.

"What do you have for me, now?"

Corey handed him the note. Mills' eyes narrowed. After a moment of silence, Mills crushed the note, and threw it in the nearby wastebasket. Mills took a deep breath, and looked up.

"Thank you."

Corey gave a quick smile, turned around to leave, stopped, and turned back to face Mills.

"Sir? Uhh…I was wondering...what's this about? I've wanted to know what _exactly _you do."

Mills looked up from dialing his phone. He thought for a second, smiled, and motioned for him to sit down. Corey sat.

"Are you familiar with the Roswell story, Corey?"

Richardson opened the door. He lived on the outskirts of Roswell, New Mexico. His house was the last one in a row of houses. All that surrounded him was desert-a vast read ocean. It went on for miles. As for Richardson's house, it was small. Mulder and Richardson walked right into a living room. It was filled with army memorabilia and two large couches with a table in the middle. Parallel to the living room was a kitchen. Mulder assumed that a bathroom and bedroom was toward the back of the house. He didn't asked.

"Please, sit." Richardson said, "I'll be right back."

He left. Mulder sat on the couch and looked around. The old photos stared at him. Mulder had an eerie sensation that he was being watched. His phone rang.

"Mulder."

"Mulder!" A voice shouted.

Scully.

"Oh, hey, Scully. I'm sorry about leaving you. You know…this is Roswell…things tend to disappear." Mulder smiled.

The phone was silent.

"Scully?"

"Funny. I know where you are. Stay there. I'll be there shortly. And don't do anything stupid, please." Scully pleaded.

"Sorry, Scully, I'm sneaking on to a government facility—"

The phone went silent. She hung up. Mulder put the phone away as Richardson entered the room. He placed a crate on the table, and sat down next to Mulder. He wiped his glasses. Mulder took a good look at the crate. There were no markings on the crate except for a faded "Roswell, 1947". Mulder looked at Richardson.

"Open it up! What are you waiting for!" exclaimed Richardson.

Mulder shot up, and opened the crate. Luckily, the top wasn't bolted on, so Mulder took it off with ease. Inside was tissue paper. Mulder dug through. Excited, but careful, so he didn't rip anything. Then he felt something metallic. His heart was racing. His mind swimming with thoughts of how _this_ was the Holy Grail. This was the answer. He pulled a sheet of metal out. He sat back down in awe. The metal was thin, and about as big as a sheet of computer paper. The edges looked liked they were torn. The amazing thing was that is was smooth. No dents, markings, or signs of damage. No rust. Mulder crumpled the metal. It crumpled, but suddenly changed back to its original form-flat and smooth. There was no sign that it had been crumpled just seconds earlier. Mulder tried tearing it. Nothing. It was as thin as tin foil, but as strong as diamond. Richardson smiled. Mulder was at lost for words. Richardson reached into the crate, and pulled 2 more pieces of material out. They were about the same size, and looked exactly like the one Mulder had in his hand. The doorbell rang. Mulder looked up.

"It's open!" Richardson yelled.

The door opened. It was Scully. She slowly entered the house, and looked at what Mulder had in his hand. Her facial expression changed from annoyance to an intrigued look.

"What is this?" she asked as she rushed over next to Mulder.

"You ever hear about that UFO crash…in Roswell," he sarcastically started, "you're looking at the debris." Mulder said coolly.

Scully was taken back. She picked up one of the other pieces, and examined it.

"How do you know this is from a UFO?" she asked.

"Well, the properties of this metal are unlike anything back in 1947!" Mulder exclaimed. "And if it's not from this Earth…"

Scully was weary. She turned toward Richardson.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to barge in like I did. I'm Special Agent Dana—" she began.

"Oh, I know. Your partner has told me everything. No need for introductions!" Richardson reassured.

Scully looked at Mulder. He smiled. Scully smiled back.

"Well," Scully cleared her throat, "I was wondering if I can take a piece back with me to Washington for further examination. I want to be sure that this couldn't be around in 1947."

Richardson agreed. Scully was a bit taken back. Everything was happening at once-this metal, how forthcoming this gentleman was, and this trip. She reassured herself to keep an open mind about everything.

_Science may not know everything_, she thought.

After a few more minutes discussing the metal at hand, there was a thunderous knock at the door. Richardson froze. Mulder and Scully looked up, confused.

"Richardson, open up! We have the place surrounded!" A voiced shouted.

Scully looked at Richardson. His body sat frozen, and his face expressed fear, which now made Scully worried. Mulder got up, and walked toward the door. He shoved the metal into his coat pocket.

"Richardson, we know you're there. Same with you Agents…"

A pause, and within seconds the deep voice returned.

"Agents Dana Scully and Fox Mulder."

Mulder looked back. Scully was confused.

_How do they know us and who are they? _Mulder thought. He knew Scully had the same thought.

"Who—"

Mulder was cut short as the door was blown away, knocking Mulder down, and people started rushing in. Scully stood up quickly, pulling her gun. Richardson sat there, realzing the truth. Mulder was on the ground, bleeding, as one of the men dragged him away.


	3. Chapter 3

The blast made him jump. Evan Corey was sitting in the back of a car, when Mills stormed the house. Mills had told Corey that this house had a connection with the Roswell incident, and that's what the note was about. Mills didn't explain further. Corey didn't need Mills to do so, because Corey was well aware with the Roswell story. He was smart enough to figure out what the problem was. Whoever house this was, they were hiding something.

Soon after the blast, a man, whose head was bleeding, was being picked up by one of the soldiers that had accompanied Mills. He was led to the car in front of where Corey was sitting. He was getting no medical attention. Corey focused on the house again. A woman was now being led out of the house, and right behind her was Mills-who had handcuffed an older gentleman. The house was now teeming with "men in black" operatives and soldiers. Corey saw a crate being led out, as well as camera equipment. He was curious. Corey got out of the car, and walked toward the car in front of him. The man was sitting in the car, and yelling at Mills.

"It's OK, sir. Do you need medical help?" Corey asked the man, trying to be considerate.

The man stopped and looked at Corey. Mulder felt his head. He was bleeding, but it wasn't serious.

"No, I'll be fine. Thanks." Mulder replied.

Corey took a deep breath. Chaos. Mulder started yelling at the man leading Scully,

"Where are you taking her? Scully! Where! Damn it!"

Mills said Scully was to be placed into a different car then the one Mulder was sitting it. It happened to be the car that was in front of Mulder's car. Mills didn't reply. Everyone ignored Mulder's question, except Corey.

"I believe they're taking you back to Holloman AFB—separately of course." Corey replied.

Mulder looked at Corey.

"Who are you?" Mulder asked.

"Oh, I'm Evan Corey." He held out his hand.

Mulder shook it, and sighed. Orders were being yelled left and right. Corey looked around, again. Everything was happening fast, and no one was being considerate of the captives; it was all brute force.

"Corey! You actually want to _do_something?" Mills shouted to him, as he was leading the older man to an unmarked white van.

Corey shrugged and shouted back,

"Sure!"

Mills chuckled.

"Alright, will you please pat down that man? Make sure he has nothing on him that would be considered dangerous or great value to us."

Corey nodded. He turned to Mulder who held out his gun.

"It's all I have." Mulder's eyed narrowed.

Corey sighed. He took the gun, and gave it to an officer who was standing nearby. Suddenly, Mulder grabbed his arm.

"I want _you _to make sure Agent Scully—the women in the car in front of us—is safe and is not put in any danger."

"Yes, of course." Corey replied.

Mulder nodded. Mills, who had grabbed a megaphone, shouted,

"OK. Everyone. Excellent job. All clear. Everyone, back to Holloman!"

Corey closed the door. The cars began driving away. He hopped into a car, as he watched Mulder and Scully's cars speed away. Just then, he realized, he hadn't gotten the man's name.

_Crap._

A few minutes later, his cell phone rang. It was Mills.

"Yeah?" Corey answered.

"Listen, you know the drill." Mills stated.

"What drill?" Corey asked.

"Anything you saw today…you will not speak about to anyone." Mills informed.

"Ah, right, of course."

"Good. Also, are you sure to checked Agent Mulder for any weapons or any _souvenirs_?"

Corey sat still. He probably should've done a better search, but going back and doing one was out of the question now.

"Corey? You there?" Mills voice echoed.

"Yeah, I'm here. And, yes, every possible inch was searched."

"Good. Hope you got enough excitement. It's back to answering calls from now on."

"Yes, sir." Corey answered.

Mills hung up. Corey sighed.

_Time to find a new career, _he joked with himself.

"Why were you there?" Mills asked Fox Mulder again.

"I want to know how you _knew _Agent Scully and I were there." Mulder replied.

They were now both in a room. Mulder was sitting down with his hands on the table, and Mills sitting across from Mulder, trying to be as calm as he could. There was a wall clock—which read 1:34 pm—and a "mirror". Mulder obviously knew that people were watching this interrogation.

"Please. Do you really think we're going to tell you how we operate? It's a secret organization!"

"We all work for the government. I'll find out sooner or later…" Mulder replied coolly.

Mills contemplated.

"Very well."

Mills pointed to the wall. Mulder looked as a screen came down from the ceiling. Mills flipped the lights off, and pressed a button on a remote that Mulder didn't know he had. The screen then illuminated with a security camera's footage. Mulder soon realized the camera was inside Richardson's house. Suddenly, the camera showed Richardson and Mulder entering the house. Mulder should've guessed.

"Why would you monitor someone of the likes of Dave Richardson?" Mulder asked.

The game changed. If Mills answered Mulder's question, he could steer him into the wrong direction—make him the skeptic. Corey made sure he had nothing, and now Mills had the chance to make sure Mulder _knew _nothing. It was worth a shot, and by far, the best way to deal with Agent Mulder.

"We monitor everyone who played a role in the Roswell incident." Mills answered.

"Why? Because a flying saucer actually _did _crash?" Mulder pursued.

Mills sat back down, keeping the screen on.

"We want to make sure they don't put national security at risk—" Mills started.

"How the hell—" Mulder interjected

"Let me finish, Agent Mulder! Mr. Richardson is a liar. He always has been. The material he showed you, let me assure you, is made from this planet. We have no idea how he got it, but it was _made _in this very facility. What we don't need is two FBI agents running around Washington claiming that aliens are coming, and have came, to this planet. It's just not true. That's why it's national security. He tricked you. An old man tricked you."

Mulder stared at Mills.

"Why would he trick me?" Mulder asked.

"I don't know why! It doesn't matter why; he just did. That's all that matters. Now, even though this material he showed you was made on this planet, you will not speak of this. Ever. Like I said, we don't need to create a sense of curiosity in anyone, especially government officials."

Mills pointed to the camera footage.

"You know how we operate."

Mulder nodded. Mills' game was to get rid of Richardson's credibility, and Mulder sensed this. He played along.

_Whatever gets me out of here_, Mulder thought.

Mills stood up.

"So, to review what you told me," he grabbed a clipboard, "you met Richardson at the museum, and you followed him home, because he had 'something' for you to see."

"That's how it happened." Mulder answered.

"And after our little discussion, we now know that…" Mills was leading for Mulder to answer.

"…the material was Earth made and Richardson is not to be trusted. Oh, and the whole 'keep quiet' thing. I know, I know." Mulder replied.

"Very good. OK. Lets hope Agent Scully tells the same story…"

Mills smiled.

"So, you're telling me that the government watches everyone who had a part in the Roswell UFO incident?" John Byers asked Mulder.

"Oh yeah. Plus, people who are unaffiliated with the government are in the conspiracy as well." Mulder explained.

The Lone Gunman, which consisted of Richard Langley, Melvin Frohike, and John Byers, were sitting around Mulder's apartment listening to Mulder and Scully's adventure. The computer nerds, and friends of Mulder and Scully, were enthralled with any conspiracy news Mulder—or Scully—informed them with.

"Unaffiliated? How?" Frohike asked.

"Well," Mulder explained, "Mills told me about 'recruitments' they have, where they assign jobs to civilians who inform the military on any rumors they uncover about the Roswell incident. Case in point: the lady behind the desk at the museum we explained earlier."

"Wicked." Langley whispered.

Scully, who was standing behind the seated the trio, added,

"It was quite a trip."

"Did you bring back a t-shirt?" Frohike asked, his eagerness apparent in his voice.

Mulder thought.

"Something better."

He quickly disappeared and reappeared with a manila folder and it was covered in alien stickers.

"A folder?" Langley sounded disappointed.

"I wanted to get more organized! But, that's not it. It's what inside…"

Mulder opened the folder to reveal a thin peace of metal that floated onto the table—like paper would.

"Tin-foil?" Byers asked.

Scully gasped. Mulder smiled.

"No, UFO debris circa 1947."

Frohike, Byers, and Langley's eyes widen. They to gasped. Everyone was in complete shock. Was Mulder for real?

"Scully, you can now run your 'scientific tests'! The truth can be revealed. No one can stop us." Mulder informed her.

"But, Mulder, how did you keep this?" Scully asked.

"Another time…" Mulder reassured.

Silence. Everyone stared at the piece of metal. Then, after several seconds, Langley broke the silence.

"_Wicked_."


End file.
